


We Sing, We Dance, We Play

by tuesdaysinoctober



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, guitarist!katara, modern au with music, pianist!zuko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysinoctober/pseuds/tuesdaysinoctober
Summary: Katara and Zuko have their two person act and that's really all they need.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	We Sing, We Dance, We Play

**Author's Note:**

> please take my tired ass's half-hearted attempt at writing some more Zutara because I haven't in a while. This is a reminder to go to sleep and drink water and if you haven't eaten, eat some food.

They’re quite the duo in Katara’s opinion, and not so much the studios, but that doesn’t matter to her, so long as they are playing music and so long as they are together. She loves when they perform, she loves performing with him. 

Zuko starts out the song, chords being played softly. He has the hands for it, long and slender. They are hands she envies and hands she loves to watch play. She loves to watch _him_ play and sometimes, though she’ll never admit it, Katara will fade out of the song and let him play, listening to him press the piano keys softly because she loves the way his eyes close and the way his lips pucker slightly and the way his body moves with the sound. 

Her melodies are plucky, her fingers slipping between each string, almost like a bass guitar, but not so deep. She will vary the key, the chords, and the song will become harsher, which she plays when she’s had a bad day, gotten into a fight after being catcalled in the streets. Zuko will match her, playing the louder chords, the meaner sounds. And on those good days, the days when he says, “We should go out” and Katara agrees, only to find out he had a whole day planned, Katara plays the strings with love and nothing else. 

The night after their first concert, when she was ordering a drink at that run down bar and he slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face into her neck and she grinned and there was a moment that lasted forever, a moment of, _even if this amounts to nothing, at least we are together and here and I don’t think I could love another person this much_. 

She kissed his hair, best she could, and ordered his whiskey sour, which he took a sip of and then smirked and led her to the dance floor, where Katara twirled and Zuko twisted and she thinks about that night so much, so, so, _so_ much. 

When he sings, those rare days, early in the morning, she falls terribly in love with him all over again. Zuko’s voice is quiet and raspy, not unlike his speaking voice, but there’s some brokenness there, brokenness that she’ll always do her best to comfort. This is not a man who deserves to be broken. 

There’s some days when she comes home from the radio station, absolutely exhausted, and Zuko is hunched over his keyboard, frowning, banging out notes that are brash, brasher than what she’s used to. It means he’s run into his father or sister, or maybe both, and those encounters never turn out well, as she’s learned. 

Those are the days when she orders takeout and lets him stay at the piano playing out the notes, while she eats and reminds him to eat and then reads aloud to him from her place on the couch, shifting positions every so often. 

There is comfort Katara takes in their music and it means everything to her; he is everything she could ask for and she wouldn’t ask for anything else.


End file.
